


oasis in the desert

by fluffy_miracle (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternative Universe - Tribes, Angst, Boys In Love, Denial, Desert, Doctor Gabriel, Endgame is Sabriel, Eventual Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Eventual Romance, Eventual relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gabriel/Sam Winchester - Freeform, Healer Sam, Hurt Sam, M/M, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, More tags later, Nature, Oblivious, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Sanctuary, Sex, Sexual Slavery, Slave Sam, Slavery, Slow Burn, Tribal life, True Mates, Violence, alternative universe, but only kind of, city
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:10:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course I get a new fic idea as the semester starts-- so here you guys go. Let me know what you think!</p><p>Sam is the healer of a slightly nomadic tribe that makes a home out of a desert. One day while out on an important mission, he is captured and dragged back to a city up in the mountains (about five days away by foot). There he is forced to begin a new life as a slave.</p><p>His fortune changes after a few years of bad luck, bad masters, and bad breaks. He meets a sympathetic but odd (also obnoxious, tricky, funny, troubled, and guarded) doctor named Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oasis in the desert

He didn't expect to be captured.

He had only gone into the desert to find a rare cactus, valued for its healing properties. He didn't expect the stranger who attacked him after getting one good look at him. He didn't expect to lose. Sure, he was the healer of his village, but he was known for being able to kill as well as he could.

It was surprising he couldn't save himself when he needed to most. It was a pity that the treasure of the tribe had been stolen away and dragged back to the encampment of his captor.

"What do you have there, Trey?" Another man ran out to greet them.

"Help me, will you?" Trey growled. "This one has been fighting nonstop, even after I subdued him." The other man whistled low.

"Yea, yea you got a good hit in there. You better hope that cleans up before we get back to the city. We could actually get what we want for a slave for once. Look at those lines and that face. Nice catch."

"Thanks. I think I've earned a vacation after this one. He wrenched my shoulder out of socket."

"Your shoulder pops out of socket if a strong wind blows on it."

"Shut up, Christian." Christian laughed, helping to wrestle the captive back to camp without a thought to the soul in their grasp. The slavers only thought of a paycheck, not of their wares. And they didn't think of the village that was plunged into turmoil— the chief dying because the healer was not able to return with that precious cactus.

Trey, Christian, and their captives made it to the city five days after capturing the strange man in the desert. "Let's bring the slaves down to Meg, get them cleaned up."

"You got it, Trey."

"The boss is gonna be happy with this lot." Trey snapped the whip against the legs of whomever faltered. The slaves were all bound together, by ropes and chains, their necks locked together in a long, wooden yoke. The man from the desert was at the front, so he couldn't hold anyone else back. He didn't seem to be able to understand a word they said, but his glares and belligerent attitude were easy enough for Trey and Christian to understand.

"I sure hope so. We need him to happy this time around."

"Boys!" Samuel Campbell stepped into the yard. "Right on time."

"Speak of the devil." Trey muttered. "Hey, boss."

"Hi, boss." Christian added on. 

"Not a bad lot this time, boys." Samuel perused the dirty faces of those less fortunate. "The tall one is impressive despite that wound."

"Crowley owes me a favor." Trey spoke up. "He'll be ready for the auction tonight."

"No, leave it. Save your favor for when you actually need something." Samuel studied the lead slave. "It suits him. He needs a weakness or two. With that attitude, people need to think they can take him." Samuel Campbell was not one of the best slave traders in the city for no reason. He was shrewd. Sentiment never slowed him down. "You boys taking them down to Meg?"

"Yes, sir."

"Leave the tall one. I'm going to test him."

"Boss?"

"He's too pretty for the fields, boys." Samuel stayed silent on what else he had picked up on the newcomer from the desert. He didn't want his workers to get any ideas. Something this valuable needed to be protected. To the more attuned buyer, this slave would be a treasure to add to any household, especially those who might want a larger household.

The slave tried to get away from Samuel as soon as he was separated from the other slaves. Samuel had his ways though. Soon the slave was trembling slightly, on his knees, eyes darting around for a way of escape. "We need to break your spirit." Samuel told the slave, squatting down on his haunches. "You understand well enough for not knowing what I'm saying." He stood up and kicked the slave in the chest, relishing the slight crack he heard. The slave's breathing was labored but not in danger of stopping. Samuel flipped the slave on to his stomach, pulling his ass up so he was on his face and knees. What little clothing the slave wearing when he came on Samuel's property was ripped off and on to the ground. "Hey, Chico!" Samuel waved over one of his sons. "I have a new one for you. Break him before the auction; it shouldn't take much."

"You got it, boss." Chico stepped over, circling the slave like a bird circles carrion. "He's pretty."

"You sound surprised."

"Trey and Christian aren't known for good luck."

"You're right about that." Samuel chuckled. "What do you think?"

"A quick fuck should do it."

"Take him behind the stables then. You can get one of the slaves to do it if you don't want to do it yourself. He isn't tested."

"I'll take my chances." Chico grinned. "We don't find pretty ones like this anymore. Where'd they find him?"

"Wandering the desert."

"So he's only pretty then." Chico rapped his knuckles against the side of the captive's head. "Don't worry, boss. He'll know his new place in life soon enough." Samuel followed them as Chico hauled the slave up and dragged him over to the stables. The slave looked pretty dazed; he didn't try to fight back this time. Samuel wasn't too worried. Most slaves didn't last the journey in. Most slaves only lasted about a year or two in the city. If this one snuffed it, well, it wouldn't cost him anything. 

There was something erotic about power. Samuel didn't know how to explain it, but knowing that he was in control over whether so many lived or died. Nothing compared to how he felt seeing this slave drag his clawed fingers in the dirt and horse dung, pained whimpers escaping tight lips.

Samuel was filthy rich; he could buy anything he wanted, but there was nothing so delicious as seeing the light of hope die in a person's eyes. That fading look of when they realize that their gods couldn't save them any more, that he was their new god. Seeing that look on the captive's before him as Chico violated the man with ease was almost heady. It was hard to feel pleasure, real pleasure, with so many false delights. This though, in front of him, was pure domination and Samuel relished in it. He undid his pants, taking himself in hand while hauling up the slave's head by his thick hair. He coaxed his cock pas the man's lips, keeping his mouth open with a finger on his lower jaw. Samuel pounded the man's throat until he came quietly, tucking himself away after a minute to recover himself. Chico was already done.

"Take him to Meg." Samuel ordered. He'd probably never see the slave again, so he didn't spare him another thought. "This one is getting sold tonight."

"You got it, boss." Chico yanked the slave up, giving him a moment to gain his balance. The slave's shoulders were slumped as if the man was caving in on himself. Good. Chico had no time for slaves that wanted to fight. This one had no more fight left in him. Every slave broke differently. For some it was pain; others shattered under being dominated. Others still snapped under throes of pleasure. Chico could inflict all of those with practiced ease and skill. He could break a human's spirit faster than anyone else in his dad's business: a distinction he wore with pride. "You weren't bad." He pulled the slave after him. "If I was in the habit of keeping slaves to warm my bed, I'd ask for you. You'll fetch a good price tonight."

Meg was silent, a reprieve from all the men who wouldn't stop lording over those they deemed lower. The slave felt lower now though. He felt wrong and broken. Something in his chest wasn't where it should be, rattling slightly when he moved. Meg worked quickly, not wasting time on torment or teasing. She washed him up and injected him with several shots that made the man feel more lost than he already was. He missed the desert. This mountainous city hurt his head and his lungs. Meg hooked a needle into his arm rant was attached to his arm. She laid him down like he was nothing. Maybe he was. The healer felt like a ghost, like he was watching all these horrible things happen to his body. He knew was shock was, he just had a different name for it. He fell asleep soon after. Meg fixed his chest while he was under. 

Night. The slave's wrists and ankles were shackled together. He was paraded onto a stage, under bright lights that hid nothing. The auctioneer rattled off prices and people waved paper in the air or nodded. The slave had been dizzy since he came to, but he felt even fuzzier under the swirling upheaval in front of him.

"Sold!" And he was shoved off stage into a waiting pen, little more than a cage. The healer found refuge in the darkness, curling up away from all those eyes and hands. There he waited until whoever had bought him claimed him.

One of the auction workers came by hour later to retrieve the purchases. He yelled at the slave to come out. He struck the slave with the crop in his hand when the giant slave didn't immediately comply. 

"Get out!" He shouted again, slapping his hand against the bars. The slave moaned low, his head throbbing with all the noise. It hurt. Everything hurt. The slave whined when the crop struck him again. "Move!"

"Enough." The slave stilled when a new voice came, freezing like the man who had been screaming at and beating him. "He's injured enough. I need him to perform at my party tonight."

"Apologies, mistress." The auction worker bobbed his head. 

"Get him out gently and load him into my car."

"Yes, mistress." The slave didn't like how the beautiful woman dressed in an expensive dress eyed him. He was glad she wasn't yelling though. He was glad she made the noise stop. "He is so pretty." She murmured approvingly, running a jeweled and manicured hand over the captive's arm and shoulder, skimming down his back. "Look at that cock. Everyone is going to be just drooling to touch you, to taste you, to suck you. But you belong to me. They can only look." She smiled, a beautiful devil, before turning and leading the way to the equally expensive car that was waiting for her.

The party was elaborate, extravagent, and even more deafening than the auction house had been. The slave's head and body ached from the abuse he had suffered in the past six days. At the party he suffered a new torture, chained to a pillar, his body sweating as he writhed against his chains. His cock ached, erect from whatever the mistress ordered them to inject him with. He couldn't touch himself and neither could anyone else. They all wanted to though, he could tell by the hungry looks they gave him. They were all like wolves, especially his mistress. She wanted him the most. She'd be the one to have him, but that didn't happen until the next morning as she rode him before dawn, finally giving him release.

He was sent back to the slave chambers when she was done. He was shown where to bathe and when he was done, where to sleep. The slave's soul was weary and heavy. He wanted to cry, but he had no strength left. He hurt too much for one night of tears to wash the torment away. He passed out into a dreamless sleep, ignoring the sympathetic looks of the other slaves.


End file.
